


"I Think This Qualifies as 'Friendship'"

by baloobird



Series: Ace Irondad and Spiderson [26]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Spidey Suit, Aftermath, Aromantic Peter Parker, Asexual Character, Asexual Flash Thompson, Asexual Peter Parker, Chronic Illness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flash Thompson Needs a Hug, Flash Thompson Redemption, Friendship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multiple Sclerosis, Needles, Neurological Disorders, Past Sexual Assault, Peter Parker Has MS, Protective Peter Parker, Self-Discovery, infinity war and endgame don't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baloobird/pseuds/baloobird
Summary: Throughout the day, he stays in his room, only going out for food, bathroom breaks, and whenever he feels gross enough that he has to take another shower. For once, Flash is glad his parents are never around. He doesn’t have to pretend to be okay but even they would notice if he didn’t go to school tomorrow.Despite having already done his homework when he should’ve been sleeping, Flash uses that excuse to ignore his friends’ text messages, even going so far as to turn his phone on silent so he doesn’t hear the notifications. Texting his friends while they’re oblivious to what happened will do nothing but make him jealous that they’re not carrying this burden.He wants to text Peter.-It's the day after the 'Chloe incident' and Flash is struggling to come to terms with what happened. He's doing everything he can to not think abouther, but nothing is working.Until he gets a surprise visit from the hero who saved him.(Follow-Up to Her Name is Chloe)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Flash Thompson
Series: Ace Irondad and Spiderson [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750639
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69





	"I Think This Qualifies as 'Friendship'"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I decided to write a follow-up to my Flash fic! 
> 
> I'm combining two universes here with Ace Flash and The New Normal. I saw an opportunity and I took it and now I'm risking confusing all of you 😂
> 
> For anyone who doesn't know, The New Normal is about Peter being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS), a chronic illness that attacks your central nervous system. While Peter does explain some stuff in this story, I recommend reading the first fic in The New Normal series first because that one will provide more information and make more sense.
> 
> ***Trigger Warning: References to past attempted sexual assault that occurred in the first Flash fic. Nothing is graphic and it doesn't go into a lot of detail but please be careful!! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!!! 💜💜💜

Flash does _not_ want to go to school tomorrow.

Ever since he came home last night, he’s been nothing short of a mess, almost wishing that he invited Peter—his new friend-acquaintance-person _thing—_ to sleepover so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Well, nothing he can do about it now, he thought. After taking a much-needed shower, he drowned himself in music, _YouTube, Netflix,_ anything to take his mind off of what Spider-Man saved him from.

But he didn’t sleep.

And now it’s Sunday and his plans are just the same as last night: doing everything in his power to not think about _her._

Her sickening sweet smile, her rough lips against his own, the black bra that Flash is still thanking God or whoever for not allowing him to see what’s underneath.

He turns up his music as loud as it goes, not caring if he’s about to burst his eardrums through his headphones. As long as he’s thinking about his aching ears, then he’s not thinking about her.

Throughout the day, he stays in his room, only going out for food, bathroom breaks, and whenever he feels gross enough that he has to take another shower. For once, Flash is glad his parents are never around. He doesn’t have to pretend to be okay but even they would notice if he didn’t go to school tomorrow.

Despite having already done his homework when he should’ve been sleeping, Flash uses that excuse to ignore his friends’ text messages, even going so far as to turn his phone on silent so he doesn’t hear the notifications. Texting his friends while they’re oblivious to what happened will do nothing but make him jealous that they’re not carrying this burden.

He wants to text Peter.

But he doesn’t have his classmate’s number and even if he did, is that a good idea? Or is that too weird?

They’ve never exactly been close. 

Hell, their talk last night was the first time they’ve actually talked without it leading to a screaming match or a back-and-forth of insults.

But Flash wants to talk to someone, someone who knows what happened.

He has to say _something_ or he’ll explode.

Without stopping to think, he grabs his laptop from his nightstand and rests it on his crossed legs, shifting his pillows so he can comfortably lean against his headboard. The teen then pulls up _Twitter_ but before he can type the student’s name into the search bar, he sees a notification that someone sent him a direct message.

He clicks on the letter icon, eyes widening at seeing it’s from Spider-Man himself.

_Hey how’s it going?_

Attached is a gif of the word “ayyyyyysexual” written in the same colors as the hero’s suit from the night before, and the font is cheesy enough to be from a throwback to _WordArt._

But it makes Flash laugh nonetheless.

The first true one of the day.

He wants to message him back but he doesn’t know what to say, especially since Flash knows why Peter sent the DM.

_He’s checking up on me._

_Does he do this with everyone he helps?_

The boy comes up with a vague answer that is the complete opposite of what he’s feeling.

_Good just chilling_

_You?_

About a minute later, Peter sends a response.

_Same just got back from mr starks_

_But fr how are you_

Flash’s fingers tap his keyboard in thought but the action isn’t strong enough to type anything.

_I feel like shit._

_And I want to crawl under a rock and die._

_But I can’t say that._

The kid then decides to reveal a little bit of truth, some truth that he knows the hero will be expecting.

_I mean fine I guess_

_Ive felt kinda gross all day and idk what to do so im kinda hoping it goes away on its own_

_And I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow_

_But its monday who does_

This time it takes a couple of minutes but his classmate messages back.

_It will_

_I know it’s annoying but from what ive learned, stuff like that takes time_

_And idk if you’re acting skills are any good but I can cover for you…..you totes have the flu 😂_

A smile breaks out across Flash’s face, an unexpected weight lifting off of his shoulders. He quickly types in his reply.

_Thanks but my mom will ask questions, better to suck it up_

Peter sends a few sad-face emojis before he replies.

_Have you told anyone?_

The other’s response is sent in mere seconds.

_Fuck no_

_I’m taking this shit to my grave_

Again, it takes a minute but Peter soon responds.

_And I don’t blame you for that but dude talking might be a good thing_

Flash is in the process of typing when another message from his peer pops up.

_That gross feeling might go away sooner_

The other boy hits “send.”

_Dude do you have any idea what my friends would do if I told them? I’ll never hear the end of it_

_And Id rather die than tell my parents_

After a few seconds of hesitation, Flash sends him another DM.

_Can I just talk to you instead?_

Peter replies almost instantly.

_Always 😊_

Flash closes his laptop and pushes it aside before curling up on his bed. His stuffed black dog, Toby, is squished against his chest, the soft material working its magic at keeping him safe like it’s done since he was a little kid.

He thinks about nothing.

But he thinks about everything.

He stays that way until he hears his mom call him down for dinner. The mention of food gives him a case of nausea but the boy trudges downstairs anyway, forcing himself to eat a few bites of pasta before using that same homework excuse and going back upstairs.

His parents don’t notice a thing.

_At least it makes all of this easier to hide._

He takes another shower, puts on a new pair of sweats, and gets back under the covers, squeezing his plushie once again as he tries to get some much-needed sleep despite it being only nine o’clock.

But of course he can’t.

The kid tosses and turns until after his parents shut off the lights downstairs. He can hear the fading footsteps as they make their way to their bedroom on the other side of the house.

Flash’s heart immediately starts to race. 

_It’s too dark._

He forgot to leave his hallway bathroom light on that acts as a nightlight.

And now he can’t see anything.

_No biggie, I can just…get up and turn it on._

_Like a human being._

_Because there’s no one else in this house you fucking moron._

The boy gives in and turns on his table lamp, squinting at the expected brightness. He’s about to get out of bed when he hears a strange noise coming from his window.

He quickly sits up, the act almost giving him whiplash but he doesn’t notice since his panic is skyrocketing.

_What the fuck?_

_Is she back?_

Flash groans as his legs swing over the side of his bed, mentally kicking himself at the absurdity. Chloe doesn’t even know his last name let alone where he lives.

But _somebody_ does apparently and now he’s too scared to move.

The teenager tries to scream but it dies in his throat. No chance now for his dad to use his police skills and take down the intruder.

But then he hears a voice.

“Flash?”

_Wait a second, I know that voice._

Something about it seems familiar but he can’t place where.

_How does this demon know my name?_

_As if I didn’t need any other surprises._

That voice is heard again.

“Flash?”

Said boy manages to force out, doing what he can to keep his quivering lip at bay. “Wh-Who, who the fuck are you?”

“Relax, it’s just me.”

There, Flash sees it. In between his curtains, a gloved hand appears, clinging onto the outside window sill.

A _purple_ gloved hand.

“Parker?” he asks, racing to the window and pushing his curtains out of the way, “Peter, is that you?” Flash sighs in relief as he opens the window, happy to see his classmate instead of a pale-skinned, black bra-wearing demon.

The hero pulls himself up and swings into the room, decked out in his now-familiar asexual Spider-Man suit, complete with the mask.

“Hey, man,” the hero says, keeping his voice low. He takes off his mask once the curtains are closed. “Uh, I was in—I was in the neighborhood and I thought I‘d stop by.”

_Wow, your lying sucks._

“Uh-huh,” Flash says with a light smirk, “Remember when I said you suck at lying?”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Worse.” The other boy chuckles as he sits on the edge of his bed. “But I’m glad you came, even if it is just to check on me,” Flash concludes, looking at the floor in embarrassment.

“I didn’t come just to check on you,” Peter says. He sits on the floor across from him while keeping a good amount of distance between them, his back resting against his peer’s bookcase.

_He’s keeping his distance._

_Again, he’s too good at this._

“Really?” Flash asks, arching an eyebrow in suspicion, “So you just decided to come over on a school night for shits and giggles?”

“Yup,” his classmate replies, “Figured I need to take a walk on the ‘wild’ side and a good first step is to be out late on a school night.”

_“Uh-huh—”_

“While Aunt May and Mr. Stark already know, of course.”

Flash snorts, not believing that he’s having a conversation like this with _Spider-Man._ “Your ‘gangster’ skills need some work, man.”

“Hey, I’m only at the first step, give me a break.”

Both teenagers get into a giggle fit, taking extra effort to keep their voices down so the adults don’t wake up.

_This._

_I needed this._

“Do you do this with everyone you help?” Flash asks after they calm down, his face falling when he remembers why the hero is here in the first place.

“Depends on what it is I helped them from. Finding someone’s lost bike isn’t a big deal but like, uh,” Peter hesitates before continuing, “With kids who got lost or people who were mugged or…people who were in your situation. I just, I like to come say ‘Hi’ if I can. And yeah, I guess it’s checking up on them but I just, I just wanna make sure they’re okay, y’know? But sometimes I can’t find where they live, or sometimes they’re just not up for talking which I get. I don’t know if I would be either.”

He looks up at Flash. “If you want me to leave, that’s fine—”

 _“No.”_ Said kid cuts him off, his growing shyness causing his cheeks to heat up. “Uh, no, you’re good.” His voice lowers. “Thanks for coming and stuff.”

Peter shrugs, a half-smile slowly forming. “So, how are you really?”

“You saw right through that chat, didn’t you?”

“You’re not that good of a liar either,” the hero says, sporting a brief smirk of his own.

Flash grunts. “I thought if I just kept telling myself I’m fine, then it’ll eventually be true. But I think that’s just making it worse, to be honest.”

“How bad has it been?”

“Um.” Flash starts raking his fingers through his hair as the humiliation intensifies. “When you were at the window, I thought Chloe was breaking in if that tells you anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says sympathetically, “Is there anything I can do?”

His classmate shakes his head. _“I_ don’t even know what to do. I didn’t do anything today and I still feel like shit.”

“Well.” The spiderling leans forward slightly. “You said earlier that you wanted to talk. Do you still want to do that?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I’ll probably just bore you—” 

“I bet my ace suit you won’t,” Peter says with a smile, “Try me.”

Flash releases a small groan, stretching out onto his bed fully with his head leaning against his upright pillows.

_Getting this off my chest might be nice._

_Hey, it’s either talk or try to sleep, and sleeping sounds too tortuous right now anyway._

“You can come up here if you want,” he says, gesturing to his bed, “You don’t have to sit on the floor the whole time.”

“Are you sure?” the hero asks, starting to get up but waiting for the final say.

“Yeah, but if you try anything.” Flash grabs his plushie from the other side of him, showing it to the fellow teenager. “Toby will beat the living shit outta you.”

Peter chuckles, almost cooing at the stuffed animal. “Well, I know better than to get on a dog’s bad side.”

He circles the bed and gets on the other side. Flash grabs his laptop and puts it back on the floor before tossing the other a pillow. Peter props it up against the footboard, stretching out on the bed himself. “So, Toby, huh?” he asks, casually crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Yeah,” Flash says, smiling as he pets his toy dog, “I’ve had him for so long, I don’t remember how I got him or came up with the name. I don’t know, he just looks like a ‘Toby’, I guess.”

“I know what you mean. I have this stuffed panda, I think I got him from a zoo or something when I was little. He’s an aroace icon.”

“‘Aro’?”

“Remember when I told you I was thinking about installing green on my suit?”

“Yeah?”

“It stands for that. But like I said, I’m still figuring that shit out.”

“I hear that. So, what’s your panda’s name?”

“Uh.” A blush creeps into the hero’s cheeks, making the other teen giggle once more.

“Dude,” Flash says, “How embarrassing can it be?”

“Because…his name is ‘Kitty.’”

Flash busts out laughing, smushing his plushie against his face to keep his voice down. “Why?”

“I liked _Monsters, Inc.,_ okay?” the intern says, chuckling along with him, “It fit at the time—”

“Oh my God, that’s literally the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Kitty and Toby should meet someday.”

“Yeah, they’d be bros.”

Flash’s face falls when he calms down completely, his stupid brain coming back to reality. _“Does_ that gross feeling ever go away?” he asks, his tone solemn.

“Oh yeah,” Peter says, matching his tone, “Let yourself decompress from everything and it’ll go away in no time.”

“That’s what I spent today doing and I hated it. I didn’t wanna do anything but I also didn’t wanna _go out_ and do anything either. I don’t know what the fuck my body wants.”

“Join the club,” Peter says with a grunt, “I spent years trying to figure out what my body wants only to find out it wants absolutely _nothing.”_

“Oh, that hurt,” Flash says, chuckling while settling more onto his upright pillow, “I felt that so much it fucking hurt.”

“A mood.” 

“I uh,” the civilian’s grin falls once again, “It’s not just the icky feeling—well, most of it is, I guess—but it’s just, uh, shame more than anything else.”

He sees Peter start to speak but he cuts him off. “I know, I know it’s not my fault and all that, but still. Like, I’m scared of my parents or my friends looking at me and instantly knowing what happened. God, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”

“You’ll get through school. And no one’s gonna find out, the only way they’re gonna know is if you tell them. There’s nothing on your face that shows anything happened, and nothing shows you’re asexual either.”

“Really?”

“Really. And I won’t say anything, so don’t worry about that.”

Flash wants to get something else off his chest, something that’s been nagging him all day but it sounds so stupid that he’s too embarrassed to say it.

“Nothing’s too embarrassing for me,” Peter says, as if reading his mind, “I literally just told you I named my panda ‘Kitty’, nothing can top that.”

Flash tries to smile but the awkwardness is getting in the way. “I’m scared I’ll see her again,” he says lowly, tightening his grip on his plushie and not even caring at how childish this must look.

Once again, Spider-Man surprises him with a sympathetic smile. “That’s valid, I wouldn’t wanna see her again either. But hey, Queens is a big place—”

“Still, though, what if? Like, what if I’m at the fucking grocery store or something and I run into her, what do I do—”

“You’re gonna walk up to her, shout ‘Fuck you’, then strut out the automatic doors. Boom, problem solved.”

“Yeah, the only part I’ll have the courage to do is fucking leave -”

“Good, she doesn’t deserve you giving her the time of day anyway.” Peter then says, his tone softening exponentially, “She won’t try it again. Is that what you’re really thinking about?”

Flash nods his head without giving it a second thought. There is a slight shakiness in his voice when he responds. “But what if she does—?”

“She won’t, y’know why?” The hero doesn’t give his peer the chance to answer. “Because if by some stroke of bad luck you do run into her, you guys will be out in public. She won’t try anything with other people around. Try not to think about the worst-case scenario, it’s gonna be fine.”

“I hope so,” Flash says with a sigh, “Right now, I don’t know if I’ll even sleep.”

“You afraid of having bad dreams?”

Again, Flash nods his head. “But it’s just, when I’m not listening to music or watching anything, my brain drifts to her and _only_ her, and I can’t make that go away. Why bother sleeping if I’m just gonna be thinking about her all night, y’know?”

He then asks, his tone just above a whisper, “Do you still have the footage?”

Peter nods his head. “I had Mr. Stark save the footage when I got back.”

Flash quickly sits up on his bed, his eyes widening in pure mortification. _“Iron Man knows—?!”_

“Yeah, he had to—”

“Why’d you tell him—?”

“I didn’t, he already knew. All the technology and stuff, it’s connected to his AI, everything’s filmed and recorded.” Peter hesitates before he concludes, “He knows what happened, he saw the footage.”

“Iron Man, the playboy of the fucking century, saw me wimp out like a _bitch—”_

 _“No,_ he saw someone in an awful situation, one that he didn’t deserve to be in.” Peter sits up as well and crosses his legs in front of him, locking eyes with his classmate. “He told me to tell you that the footage is safe in case you ever wanna use it.”

Flash releases a humorless laugh. “Iron Man, this guy I’ve looked up to since I was like five, saw me like _that.”_

“He’s a regular guy too, man, he doesn’t see you as less of a human being—”

“But he heard everything, even with us on the roof—”

“Actually, he told me he didn’t listen to that.”

Flash gives the hero a confused look. “Why?”

“He could tell it was personal, especially since we know each other.” Peter then says, “He knew it wasn’t his place.”

The fellow teenager takes in a deep breath. “And he won’t tell anyone?”

“No. I mean, he wants to go to the police but he won’t push it.”

“Would he actually help me with that—?”

“Oh yeah, he’s done it before. Sometimes, like with the situation with you, I don’t get to call the police or the person would insist on not having the police involved. Mr. Stark’s helped some of them come forward and he uses the footage. You’re uh, you’re not the first person we’ve saved footage for.”

“Wow,” Flash whispers, “I didn’t know you guys did all of that.”

“It never feels like enough, though.” Peter’s tone lowers. “Mr. Stark’s told me so many times that I can’t save everyone, that I’m one person in a place of _millions_ of people, but it hurts nonetheless.”

“You can’t beat yourself up for that.” The other student crosses his own legs in front of him. “It’s physically impossible to help every single person.”

“Logically, I know that—”

“So be happy for the ones you _do_ help, be happy ‘cuz they’re happy that you helped them. I know I can’t speak for everyone but I know _I’m_ happy.”

Peter looks up at his peer, the other giving him a half-smile in return. “I seriously don’t know how to thank you,” Flash says, “And yeah, I may never use the footage but what you did last night, what you’re doing tonight? I’m never gonna forget this.”

The spider-boy’s cheeks flush to a light pink hue. “You don’t have to thank me—”

“Dude, I’m gonna be sending you ‘thank you’ e-cards every day till I die.”

“Just send me ace memes and we’ll call it even.”

Flash releases a hearty chuckle. “There’s memes about asexuals?”

“Dude, there’s memes about _everything,_ you just gotta look hard enough.”

“I’ll remember that.” Flash then unexpectedly yawns, stretching back on his bed as he tries to ignore his body’s need to sleep. “But yeah, you’re good at what you do, don’t worry yourself over something you can’t help.”

“May’s told me that I don’t know how many times. Maybe one day I’ll believe it.” A yawn then escapes the spider-boy himself, rubbing his eyes with sleep as he starts to get off the bed. “I better get back—”

“Don’t go.”

Peter stills, looking back at his classmate while sitting on the edge of the bed. “What?”

“No, I mean—” Flash cuts himself off with a groan, his face heating up in embarrassment. “You can go if you want, it’s just, uh, it’s just.” He bites his lip in nervousness while scratching the back of his neck to keep from panicking.

_I’m literally asking him to stay as if he’s my damn babysitter._

_All because I’m afraid of someone who’s not even gonna show up._

_I really am a fucking moron._

“Flash?” the hero asks, swinging his legs back onto the bed, “Do you want me to stay?”

The other kid nods his head, his gaze locked onto his plushie since he can’t work up the courage to look his peer in the eye. “But if you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know this is weird—”

“It’s not weird,” Peter says with a smile, “It sounds kinda fun. Actually…” he trails off as he gets off the bed, putting on his mask as he’s walking to the window.

_He changed his mind._

_Figures._

The spider-boy opens the curtains and unlocks the window, lifting it but not making any move to climb out and leave. Instead, his arm reaches out and pulls on something that was…against the house?

Before Flash can question, his classmate grabs the item and brings it inside, closing everything back up before taking off his mask once again.

Peter turns around and holds up a black bag, the fabric frayed from years of use and complete with the hero’s white initials fading into the material.

_Wait, that’s a bag._

_Like a duffel bag._

_Like an_ overnight _bag._

“You-you,” Flash says, “You already _packed?”_

“It was a just-in-case. I just, uh, wanted to be on the safe side. Judging by your chats, you didn’t sound like you were doing that great so, uh, yeah.”

A slight uptick of a grateful smile forms across the civilian’s face. “Don’t think I’m like, making you stay or anything. You can leave if you want—”

“Flash, I _want_ to stay. I know your brain’s thinking about last night but I promise, I don’t feel trapped or anything.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” Peter smiles. “You’re doing all the right things.” He then gestures to the open bedroom doorway. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“First door on the left. And um, thanks…for everything.”

“Yeah, no sweat.”

While Flash is waiting for his friend—friend?—to get changed, he grabs a second pillow from the floor along with another blanket from his closet and puts them on the other side of his bed. He finds himself feeling lighter now than he has all day.

And Spider-Man is the reason why.

Does he feel stupid for needing a second person around to help him sleep tonight? 

Without a doubt.

But does he care? 

Well, right now, all he cares about is not looking like a zombie in the morning.

Peter soon walks back into the bedroom, now clad in sweats and a T-shirt. He puts his bag on the floor and turns toward the bed. “I don’t have to sleep on the bed if you don’t want me to,” he says, “I’m fine with the floor—”

“Dude, I’m not about to make you sleep on the floor. It’s a queen-size anyway, there’s plenty of room.” Flash smirks as he settles more on his side of the bed. “Like I said, Toby takes no prisoners.”

“I’ll keep my distance,” the fellow student says with a snort. He then climbs onto the bed, shifting to get under the covers. 

Flash starts to turn off the lamp but he stiffens, realizing that the second he turns off the light, it will be pitch black again.

And _she_ might appear.

His gaze goes towards the hallway, every part in him about to wimp out and turn on the bathroom light but he sees a dim yellow glow shining from that very location.

_Peter already turned it on?_

“How’d you know I wanted the bathroom light on?”

“Uh,” Peter says, a faint pink hue forming on his cheeks, “Figured, um, figured you wanted it on due to, uh, everything.”

_Dude, you can just tell me you sleep with a light on too._

_It’s not exactly my place to judge._

With that, Flash turns off his nightstand lamp, the room darkening instantly except for the reassuring glow emitting from the doorway. 

“So,” Peter says, “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

“Dude, you saved me and now you’re sleeping over at my house, I think this qualifies as ‘friendship.’”

“Good, ‘cuz that’s what I told Mr. Stark.”

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah, man.” Peter gives him another smile before a yawn escapes him. “G’night.”

“Uh, ‘n-’night.” His classmate settles onto his pillow, turning his head to face away from his new friend so said kid doesn’t see the shock on his face.

_A friend, huh?_

_Spider-Man is my friend now._

Penis Parker _is my friend now._

_Welp, stranger things have happened._

-

Nothing in this world could have stopped Flash’s groan when his alarm goes off the next morning.

His eyes slowly drift open, blinking rapidly to try and wake himself up. He grabs his phone to turn off the alarm only to find that the sound isn’t coming from his device. In fact, his alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour, with it only being six AM.

The boy’s eyebrows narrow in confusion but a grunt from next to him makes everything click.

_Oh yeah, he’d probably wanna leave before Mom and Dad wake up._

Flash feels his new friend shift on the mattress and glances over to see Peter reaching for his phone on the floor and turning off the alarm.

The hero yawns as he gets out of bed, still unaware that the other teenager is also awake. He walks to his duffel and starts fishing through it before he pulls out two other bags: the first is small and navy blue in color while the second is larger with a dull gray. With those in hand, he carries them to the bathroom.

_Maybe the guy has a really complicated self-care routine or something._

Flash thinks nothing of it and closes his eyes, hoping to get some more sleep before his own alarm rings. 

But try as he might, he can’t get himself to doze off, not with the sounds of the flushing toilet and running faucet ringing in his ears through the thin walls. He hears his friend emit the usual sounds that suggest he’s brushing his teeth but then an unexpected noise causes Flash's ears to perk up.

A click.

Confusion floods the teen from head to toe.

_Da fuck’s he doing in there?_

It’s then that the boy finally decides to just get up. He’s already awake, no point in fighting it. He swings his legs over the side of his bed, glancing up at his peer when he walks back into the room with those same two bags.

Flash’s eyes squint in confusion when he catches sight of that navy blue one. Most notably, the white label that’s printed on it.

_Autoject: For glass syringe_

“‘Autoject’?” Flash blurts out, almost shrinking under the other’s horrified gaze. “Like injections—?”

 _“Shit,”_ the hero says, dropping his bags as if they’re fire, “I thought you were still asleep.”

“Uh, sorry? Is, uh, is that how you maintain your powers or something?”

“No, I wish,” Peter drawls, slumping on the edge of the bed in defeat. With a deep, despairing sigh, he says, gaze locked onto his feet, “I-I, I have MS, that’s what the injections are for. I thought I could do it before you woke up.”

“‘MS’?” Flash asks, eyes widening in pure shock, “Like, like ‘Multiple Sclerosis’, _that_ MS?”

The hero’s head jerks in the other’s direction, his own eyes bugging out to the size of his head. “You know what it is?”

“Yeah, my aunt has it. I didn’t know kids could get it too.”

“Me either. So for me, it’s technically called _‘Pediatric_ Multiple Sclerosis.’”

Flash puts down his phone and takes a good look at his friend, noticing the shyness and embarrassment surrounding his features.

_Wow, he really didn’t want me to know._

“How, um,” he starts, “How long?”

“Uh, I was officially diagnosed about four months ago but it’s been like two years in the making.” Peter crawls onto the bed fully and crosses his legs in front of him. He leans against the footboard but jerks back up with a wince, scooting forward to sit upright. “You remember when I wore an eyepatch to school for like a week or so?”

“Yeah.” Flash copies the other’s position and does the same on his side of the bed, tossing the hero a pillow so he can rest on a softer surface. “That was the reason?”

The web-slinger nods his head, tucking the pillow behind him in such a way that it’s folded against his lower back. “I, uh, I woke up one day seeing double.”

The other kid’s eyebrows raise in alarm. _“Holy shit—”_

Peter cuts him off with a humorless snort. “Yeah, don’t recommend. But yeah, I needed the eyepatch so I could see better and keep my balance and stuff. It went away on its own after a few weeks.”

“You had to deal with that shit for _weeks?_ That sounds terrifying.”

The hero smiles despite himself. “I mean, it wasn’t boring. To be honest, I was surprised you didn’t make fun of me for it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, my dorky ass walks into school with this eyepatch on, and it’s not even a cool eyepatch, it’s just a cheap one my aunt got me from a drugstore. The jokes write themselves, man.”

“Actually, I was quiet ‘cuz I spent most of the day thinking up the perfect joke that I knew would make you feel the most like shit. I don’t remember it now so I'm sure it was terrible. But yeah, I was gonna tell you this joke after biology but you were already in the classroom for English so I couldn’t say anything then.”

Flash hesitates before he continues. “But then Ms. Walters asked you what happened and you just, uh,” he pauses briefly, looking up at his savior, “You looked really scared.”

“Wow, I really am bad at lying. And here I am thinking I hid it so well.”

“Dude, you woke up with this thing, I’d be scared too. So, uh, when I saw how scared you looked, I knew it wasn’t gonna be any fun to make fun of you, so I just left it alone.”

“Huh,” Peter says, “And people say bullies don’t have hearts.”

“I mean, we gotta draw a line somewhere,” the other says jokingly, “Does anyone else know?”

“At school, Ned’s the only other person who knows. Aunt May keeps trying to get me to tell a teacher in case anything happens—”

“Like what?” Flash interjects, “What exactly _might_ happen?”

“Uh,” his classmate starts, sporting a sheepish look on his face while he scratches the back of his neck, “I could fall, falls are common. There’s dizziness, fatigue, or um.” He swallows a lump in his throat. “More vision issues. Just, um, stuff like that to look out for.”

“Have you had anything like that happen?”

“No, thank God. I just deal with the minor stuff like numbness, tingling, itching sensations, and also the ‘pins and needles’ feeling like after you’ve been on a trampoline, that happens sometimes.”

“You deal with all of that every day?”

“No, not every day, things have been fine lately, it kinda comes and goes. But it’s not near enough to keep me away from school and being Spider-Man, so that’s good.”

“You’re being way too cool about this.”

“I got to or I’ll explode,” Peter says with a grunt, “This is just something I gotta live with, y’know, so I try not to think about it much. It’s just a thing I have now.”

“But it’s a sucky thing you have now. So, that’s what the injections are for?”

Peter nods his head. “It’s my treatment, I take one every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I have different spots on my body to choose from and I rotate. Today was the back of my right hip.” He gestures to the pillow that’s propped up against him. “It’s a little sensitive right now,” he mutters.

“So it hurts?”

“At first it stings, yeah, but you get used to it. It goes away after a while.”

“You don’t deserve to get used to it—”

“But I don’t have a choice.” Peter gives him a half-smile, his face slacked in defeat. “If I don’t take the treatment, there’s a bigger chance I could have worse relapses as I get older, more nerve damage, or…possible paralysis—”

_“Paralysis—?”_

“But I don’t like to think about that,” the hero says in a rush, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. “But I'm uh,” he continues, “I’m taking the medication now and, uh, it’s going good.” He looks up at his friend, giving him a look that borders on desperation. “How’s your aunt doing?”

_He’s definitely not asking about her day._

“I mean, I don’t know the details of what she goes through, she never talks about it but when she comes over she, uh, she always sounds and looks…normal, I guess? That’s probably the wrong thing to say—”

“No, it’s _perfect.”_ Peter sighs in relief. “So she’s fine even though she’s uh, older?”

“Yeah.” The other kid nods his head. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, dude.”

A ghost of a smile spreads across the hero’s face. “I have a confession to make,” he says.

“What?”

“I turned on the bathroom light last night for me, not you.”

“I figured,” Flash says with a smirk, “Don’t forget that you’re a terrible liar too.”

Another pink hue forms on the other boy’s cheeks. “I need to take a class on this shit.”

“You and me both. So you don’t like the dark either, that’s not a big deal.”

“But I used to not mind it. Ever since the double vision thing, I haven’t exactly been a fan of the dark.”

“You literally got that vision thing overnight though, that’s valid—”

“But it’s stupid at the same time,” Peter says, “Y’know how when you turn your lights off to go to sleep, and you see a lot of squiggly lines and fuzzy stuff while your eyes are getting adjusted and all that?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the part that freaks me out. The way your eyes play tricks on you and stuff, I’m scared it’s the double vision happening again. When there’s a light, I can focus on the things I see like your dresser or the Star Wars poster on your wall.” He gestures to said items on that side of the room. “And then when I see it’s only one thing and not two, then I calm down enough to finally go to sleep.” 

He looks up at his friend. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“That’s not stupid,” Flash says, “Sometimes those squiggles go on for a stupid long time—”

“Honestly. I, um, I still keep my eyepatch in my backpack in case it, uh, pops up again randomly.”

“I hope it never does.” Flash takes another good look at his classmate, a warmth blossoming in his chest at seeing him more relaxed than when he started talking about such a big part of his life.

However, the color in the web-slinger’s cheeks has grown darker, evident that he’s still embarrassed by having to confess all of this.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, y’know,” the civilian says, gripping onto his plushie to keep the awkwardness at bay, “There’s nothing you could’ve done to keep from getting this—”

“No, I know, it’s just,” Peter pauses to take a deep breath, “I don’t like talking about it ‘cuz it can freak people out.” He smiles at the other teenager. “I’m actually kinda surprised _you’re_ being so cool about this.”

“I guess having a relative who has this helps.”

“Yeah, good point. But yeah, not many people know about me ‘cuz this thing kinda gets a bad rap. Most people, when they hear the name, they think it’s like a death sentence or something, like I’m gonna be in a wheelchair forever when most of us actually live pretty normal lives with it.”

“Makes sense. I mean, my aunt seems normal.”

“Exactly, just like how I’m pretty normal. And with me, since this thing was caught early, I’m taking the treatment early and I’m less likely to have it worse when I get older. But if I say something, people are gonna look at me like I’m a statue that’s gonna fall over any second. The news doesn’t help things either.”

“The news makes everything dramatic anyway.”

“True.”

“I hate to say this, dude, but I’m with your aunt. Telling someone like Mr. Harrington might be a good thing—”

“But he’s gonna look at me like _that_ and I hate when people look at me like that—”

“I can be there with you—”

 _“Flash.”_ The hero releases a frustrated groan as he puts his head in his hands. “I don’t mean to pull the ‘you-don’t-get-it’ card but you really don’t. I’m a superhero for fuck’s sake, but if I say anything about MS, everyone’s gonna look at me like I’m a fucking piece of glass—”

“Then ignore them, or tell them off or something. Or I can do it for you—”

Peter cuts him off with an exasperated chuckle. “Maybe one day but today is not that day.”

“Fair enough,” his peer says with a smile, “This secret’s safe with me too.”

“Spider-Man, MS, asexual, this is way too many secrets to start off a friendship.”

“Keeps life interesting,” Flash snorts, “For real, though, I’m glad you told me.”

“Sorry if I freaked you out. What time is it?”

Flash looks at his phone that’s still on his nightstand. “6:30.”

“Shit, I gotta get home.” The spider-boy uncrosses his legs but makes no move to get up. “You gonna be okay?”

The fellow student can’t help the panic that rises in his chest, the dread of everyone finding out wavering over him like an eternal dark cloud. “I don’t wanna go to school today,” he whispers.

Peter crosses his legs once again and scoots forward until he’s about an arm’s length away from his friend. “No one’s gonna find out.”

“But—”

“I promise, _no one’s gonna find out._ Chloe doesn’t go to our school, no one knows who she is—”

“But how can I just pretend everything’s fine? You said so, I’m not good at lying either—”

“But we’re both good at lying by omission. I know it’s gonna be awkward with us but, uh, if you wanna stick with me, Ned, and MJ, there’s always room at our lunch table.”

“I thought you weren’t close with MJ.”

“We’re not, she’s just kinda there but I _think_ she’s warming up to us? I don’t know, I can’t tell with her. But yeah, there’s a spot open.”

“Tempting but if I do that, my friends will definitely know something’s up. But if I were to, uh, sit next to you in every class we’re in, you won’t be annoyed?”

“Nah, just make sure not to sit in Ned’s spots, he’s kinda territorial over where he sits.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Flash says with a snort.

Peter gives him another smile before he hops off the bed. He then says as he picks up his duffel bag, “I can change in the bathroom—”

“Nah, stay, I have to pee anyway.”

Flash gets up and heads to the bathroom to do his morning routine, returning a few minutes later to find his bedroom void of Spider-Man, curtains pushed back, and a message on its respective window written in web fluid.

_Damn Ace_

He busts out laughing as he walks to the message, feeling the rubbery webbing between the tips of his fingers, lightly pulling it only for the material to spring back to its original shape.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he asks himself, still laughing as he takes a picture of it on his phone, the message giving him just the right amount of motivation to get ready and survive his day at school.

With Spider-Man—his _new friend_ —by his side, Flash knows he will be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I'm also on [tumblr](https://baloobird.tumblr.com/)💜


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